Fanatic
by aikaterine26
Summary: Nolan-verse. A young woman who is obsessed with the Joker learns a valuable lesson about his nature. Warnings for violent themes. Oneshot. NOT Joker/OC.


**Title: **Fanatic

**Rating: **M for violence and references to rape.

**Summary: **Nolan-verse. A young woman who is obsessed with the Joker learns a valuable lesson about his nature. Warnings for violent themes. NOT Joker/OC.

**Authors notes: **I'm not suggesting that people can't make Joker/OC work. I just feel that a lot of fic of that nature has been written in hurried excitement after seeing The Dark Knight and people aren't really thinking about the Joker's character and his behaviour. This fic is inspired by how I personally feel that the Joker, specifically Ledger's Joker, would deal with any woman who wants to be his sidekick. Not that I feel he'd have the time or even the desire to go after them all!

I tried to keep the Joker's character consistent with the film but I think I slipped into DCU Joker a couple of times! Apolgies.

PLEASE remember that the themes here are not a reflection of how I personally feel. I am not advocating anything that the Joker says here but I'm writing _as_ him so consider this your last warning to get out if you don't like the idea of someone dismissing abuse as something trivial.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything related to _Batman _or _The Dark Knight._

-0-0-0

Jim Gordon removed his glasses and pinched the ridge of his nose with a sigh.

The scene before him was becoming too frequent. He wasn't sure he could find the strength to be shocked anymore, that feeling was mutating, replacing itself with something new. Perhaps it was pity or worse the knowledge that this wouldn't stop.

The girl can't have been more than sixteen years old. She was a petite and pale thing. She looked as though she hadn't eaten a decent meal in a few days. Then again, did anybody look healthy with a jagged red smile carved up to his or her eye sockets?

Gordon hadn't given the order to turn her over yet but her neck was twisted and her cold dead eyes still staring over her shoulder. Her attacker had probably dealt the killing blow from behind. Her dark hair was matted with blood.

"Another dead girl…"

The Batman had arrived right on schedule. Not that Gordon expected he _had_ a schedule but few moments lapsed between the discovery of a crime scene and the Dark Knight's appearance. And every time he would assess the situation in one concise sentence like that. There was no need to debrief this guy. "You do remember that I'm supposed to arrest you on sight?" Gordon asked, putting on his glasses again.

"You won't," the Batman replied. "Since he got out, you need me,"

Gordon nodded. Sure, Gotham's relationship with the bat was still on shaky ground but recently, its citizens had been forced to warm up to him again. He was the only one capable of stopping this.

"This is the third girl this month," said Gordon "you'd think they'd learn by now,"

It didn't take the world's greatest detective to work out what he meant. The girl's naivety was as bold as the streak of green dye in her hair. Her dress was purple and her knee-length socks an instantly recognisable pattern of clashing coloured squares. It was hard to tell if she or her killer had applied the white make-up on her face. Unfortunately, it was most likely to former option.

"They don't understand him," Batman knelt next to the dead girl and swept her hair away from her face. Even with the knife slashes across her cheeks her expression was plainly one of confused terror. "They think that a man like him wants a kindred spirit, they think they can change him. Do we know her name?"

Gordon nodded again, this time with more solemnity. "Sally Donald, another girl with a tragic past. Her father shot her mother in front of her. She's been in and out of foster care for the past ten years," he paused and almost chuckled. Almost. "They honestly believe they can appeal to his emotions?"

"The Joker has no emotions and these little girls keep buying his stories," replied Batman, his low growl beginning to sound angrier than usual. He rose to his feet just as Gordon was surveying the rest of the room.

"Well, guess we should make…" Gordon didn't finish his sentence. Apart from Sally's corpse, he was alone again. "One of these days, I'll remember to keep an eye on you…" he muttered.

-0-0-0-

_6 days later_

Katie Smith had never felt so stupid in her entire life. She had been taken in completely and had believed that this time things would be different. Those other girls, they were small fry. She was the real deal. She _understood_ him.

Now, in a dilapidated theatre, she found herself on an ancient stage tied firmly to a chair. Yet in spite of the pain, the tears and the sense that her life was at its conclusion, she wanted to believe this was a test. Yes of course! _It is a test_ she thought and underneath the tape covering her mouth she could almost smile.

"Katie Katie…Katie Smith," the way her name drawled off his lips, surely this was going to be worth it? Whatever he had planned, nobody would kill someone after saying their name like they _mean_ it. Yes, she was special. She meant something to him. He'd bothered to remember her name.

The Joker was towering over her now, his permanent smile more wide than usual. His movements were serpentine and she _liked _it. He silvered around the chair, occasionally flicking his tongue against the edge of his mouth. Katie didn't know how long this had been going on but it felt like forever. He slowly ran the fingers of one gloved hand over her shoulders and down her back to her hands, tied together at the seat of the chair. _Yes_, he was untying her. This was proof, proof that he wasn't going to kill her. _It's a test_.

He moved to stand in front of her again. He hadn't untied her legs or removed her gag but if he would only move closer she could touch him. She could reassure him that she was the one. She was the only person who could connect with him. "Katie…Katie Smith," he repeated, quietly giggling to himself.

She drew back as he lurched forward, the chair scraping slightly against the wood of the stage. She didn't mean to, it was an automatic response. His smile fell into a frown and a look of revulsion danced across his dark eyes. "Ya know, I'm wounded Katie. You've spent the past twenty-four hours telling me you're not scared and now you're trying to move away from me?"

Katie tried to apologise. Naturally, it came out as an incoherent squeak muffled by the duct tape. _I've blown it, that's it…I'm dead_.

"Shhh! Hush, hey, it's ok," the Joker whispered, gently placing his hands either side of her head and stroking his fingers down to her jaw. He felt her body loosen a little and she stopped mumbling, choosing instead to stare at him with simpering obsession that pushed him to his limits. He had to curl his toes inside his shoes and hunch his shoulders. The urge to shatter her spine then and there was becoming too great.

He decided to punish her in another way. With his best _genuine_ smile he reached for one of her hands and forced her to cup his chin. Her eyes gleamed with delight. He felt so warm against her palm. The greasy face paint melting onto her skin was more pleasant than disgusting. It didn't matter anyway. She was touching him. "See there my sweet Katie, it's ok. See, your touch has this calming effect on me…"

In one short and sharp movement, he grabbed her hand again and snapped her wrist.

She screamed. Oh it wasn't as amazing as a scream without the gag there, but it was enough. It was music to his ears and now tears were bubbling at the bottom of her eyes again and the stupid girl was trying to hold them back.

The Joker finished his sentence, "You make me want to hurt you rather than kill you!" and then he leaned so close she could taste the vile stench of his breath and he laughed loudly in her face.

It took him a while to calm down and he was still giggling. He moved away from the chair and pretended to wipe tears away from his eyes and it set him off again into howls of laughter. Katie didn't dare move. With only one working arm it would've been difficult to untie her legs and he'd surely see if she peeled the tape off her mouth.

Too late, he'd obviously noticed her considering it.

The Joker leapt so quickly towards her it was like he was flying. Mid-air he produced a small knife from one of his pockets and as he landed pressed it hard against Katie's throat. With his left hand he yanked her by the hair so that she had no choice but to look at him. He giggled again. She was _whimpering_ now. This was too much fun!

"Isn't this what you wanted Katie? I thought you said you wanted all of me, you said you didn't care about the scars…and the killings…and the total disregard for human life. You said you liked it!" the Joker demanded, shaking her head so violently that the knife pressed against her skin enough to draw a small spot of blood. "Weren't those your _exact_ words?!" he growled.

Carefully, he put the knife between his teeth so that he could pull the gag away. He did it so fast that she screamed again, so sure that he'd ripped her lips from her face. The knife was tickling her neck again and he pulled her hair so hard that she almost lifted from the chair.

"Answer the question dear, it's rude not to…" he teased.

Katie's bruised lips trembled so much that she didn't even know if anything would come out resembling real words. Her throat was tightening and her mind full of so many confused ideas. It wasn't supposed to be this way. She was supposed to be his companion, his partner in crime. "Y…yes," she finally managed to say.

"Sorry but, I'm a little forgetful and a little deaf. It's all those explosives. What was that?"

Tears rolled freely down her face now and she sniffed, trying hard to not sob out loud. The Joker was growing more impatient and when he tried to grab her other wrist she finally screamed. "Yes! Those were my exact words, yes!"

He released his grip on her hair but left the knife against her neck.

"Why are you doing this?" she stuttered.

He was taken by genuine surprise. How dare she ask him a question out of turn? Did he tell her to speak? Nevertheless, it gave him a great set-up. Now this silly little girl could truly learn what it meant to be with a man like him.

The Joker was kneeling now, yet he was still almost level with Katie's head. Such was the power of his ability to intimidate that she shrank down against the back of the chair. Now they were level again but the shadow his tall, broad form cast across her made Katie feel caged. There was no escape from this. Not now.

"You see Katie, you girls are missing the bigger picture. You think that your stories of daddy raping you and mommy beating you for failing a math test are just the kind of thing you need to make some meaningful connection with guys like me. You girls think that our pasts are synonymous with one another and for some reason, that frankly even I think is insane, you think that means you," he had to bite back a laugh "_love_ me,"

"But I _do_ love you!" Katie wailed.

Oh this was too much. More howls of laughter erupted from the Joker's throat and this time he really did have to wipe away tears. This girl just wasn't getting it.

He continued to wheeze as he spoke but his message was loud and clear. "You're little sob-stories bore me Katie. What made you think that your past would earn my respect? Do you seriously believe that you are in the same league as me?"

Against her better judgement, Katie nodded.

Then the Joker grabbed her hair again with such force that she felt something in the top of her neck crack. "Ya wanna know why your brother, or daddy, or whichever relative of choice raped you?"

She tried to shake her head. He was going to tell her anyway.

"Because you let it happen. Now, I'm not saying girls like you deserve it because if I'm honest those guys who can't get laid they have issues. So they have to resort to taking by force, they're nothing to me. They're way down the food chain so to speak. They're pathetic. But you, you're an easy target," he stopped momentarily, noticing that Katie had closed her eyes. "Look at me Katie," he said calmly. She didn't oblige. "Look at me!" he snapped, pushing the knife against the underside of her chin.

"You try to create this air of mystery, this tortured genius routine. And you think that just because Uncle Jim made you touch yourself, it makes you a deep and meaningful person. You think it makes you stronger, but it doesn't. Oh Katie it really doesn't,"

He leaned so close that his lips were almost brushing against hers. She wanted so badly to pucker hers, attempt to kiss him, hoping that it'd mellow him. _Maybe it's still a test_. But really, the past few minutes had taught her that this would've been a bad idea and her delusions that he was testing her were exactly that. Delusions. For the first time ever, she wished she hadn't stalked him, arriving at his every crime scene until he noticed her.

"You see, hush shh, don't cry," he had his free arm around her head and was stroking her hair as she sobbed against the lapels of his jacket. He smelled like earth and decay. "If you were stronger, you wouldn't be desperately ripping off _my_ act!"

He spun her around, chair and all, and threw her to the ground. The back of the chair shattered and her broken wrist landed awkwardly underneath her body. She coughed between sobs and writhed against the wood beneath her, trying to twist free of the wreckage tied to her ankles.

The Joker straddled her, laughing in her ear as she tried to push him off with her good arm. She tried to hit him, tried to break her legs free of their bonds and kick him. He pushed a hand against her chest, splaying out his fingers and leaning his entire weight down on her, just enough to hold her still. She got the message and he transferred his hand to her chin, gripping it hard between the leather covering his fingers. The stench of stale blood curled up into her nostrils.

"Gotham is my sandbox Katie, and I don't wanna share!"

At that moment she knew those words would be the last she'd hear. Cackling, the Joker held the knife high in the air and everything faded quickly to black.

-0-0-0-

Katie was surprised to be awake. She was more surprised to be still alive.

Her vision was blurry and the pain ripping through her entire body was so strong it was like an extremely bad case of pins and needles. Still, she had just enough energy to yell as soon as something came into focus. There was someone looming over her. Someone big. She assumed that the Joker had kept her alive for round two.

A gloved hand stopped her scream. This time, the glove was black.

"Hold still," the voice was deep and powerful. It could only be one man.

"Ba…B…Batman,"

Katie attempted to sit up but her limbs were a dead weight attached to her body. She was overwhelmed by a cocktail of emotions and wanted so badly to cry out in pain, humiliation and relief that she had made it.

Just enough of her vision had returned to show that all around her there was evidence of a struggle other than her own. The stage curtain had been partially ripped down, the front row of seats were scattered in several pieces across the area once occupied by an orchestra and there was a freshly made hole in the stage floor mere centimetres in front of Katie.

The Batman had saved her. It gradually began to sink in. She was alive. The Joker must have been defeated!

She stared ahead just in time to see the back of that infamous purple suit. The Joker was flanked by at least six cops and they led him away, hopefully to throw him back into Arkham for good. Katie breathed a sigh of relief.

At that moment the Joker turned his head to look over his shoulder and spotted Katie looking at him. His scarred mouth curled into a sinister smile and he ran his tongue seductively over his top lip. Katie quickly closed her eyes and the Joker began to laugh.

"You want my advice kid," said the Batman. She had forgotten he was still there. "Get a boyfriend. A real one,"

She was alone now, lying helplessly on her back until the ambulance arrived.

Katie Smith, that girl who had been so bold, so adamant that she was messed up enough to be the Joker's partner, had shown her true colours. She was a phoney.

She had learned that a fanatic was not the same thing as a soul mate. And she had learned the hard way.

**End.**


End file.
